


sunflower

by woojin



Category: Wanna One (Band)
Genre: M/M, band au? ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-09
Updated: 2018-01-09
Packaged: 2019-03-02 13:14:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13318893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woojin/pseuds/woojin
Summary: minhyun's a music journalist sent to interview silent screamer, the band with an enigma that left many to wonder.





	sunflower

**Author's Note:**

> the band's name is based off the tatsuro yamashita song. 
> 
> this was originally a draft that was gonna sit until google drive until i die, so i apologize if the ending is sudden. enjoy!

Minhyun sits comfortably on a small couch covered in leopard print. The tour bus is chaotic in nature, bull horns hanging on the wall next to glittering framed photographs of Michael Jackson, but somehow it fits. The floor is hardwood and brown, and dust coats it ever so slightly. He was told to take his shoes off when he entered, and that the interview would start … whenever they felt like it.

He adjusts his glasses and takes out his phone to remember some background knowledge of the band, Silent Screamer. Their lead singer, Ong Seongwoo, was their mastermind of their sudden rise to fame over the past six months, using unconventional influences to enhance rock music. They had a drummer, Yoon Jisung, who quit his job at a marketing company to join the group, and acted as a de facto manager. Their bassist and second vocalist, Ha Sungwoon, was an established ballad singer as a child, who wanted to feel something new. The guitarist, Kang Daniel, was soft spoken, curious, and possibly a bit gullible. He was the fan favorite, for sure. Lastly their keyboardist and composer Kim Jaehwan, was loud and eccentric, and was proficient in many different instruments. 

The Fanfare had sent Minhyun to make a cover story about a self-proclaimed boy band who, instead of singing about love and heartbreak, sang about love and heartbreak, just with more sex and more shouting. They weren’t signed to a label and didn’t plan to, as stated from other brief interviews. Minhyun was shocked that they had allowed him to follow them on tour for three weeks. 

“I could use a fresh face. Also, short interviews often ask the same questions. I would like something new to be brought with the table. Doesn’t hurt that you write for the biggest music magazine in the country.” Seongwoo had said on a Skype call with Minhyun before they were supposed to meet in Busan for the beginning of the trip. 

Minhyun had met musicians before, their stage personas was typically an act. With Seongwoo, you could tell that what you saw what was you got.

As Minhyun dwelled on their first encounter, there was shouting as the door had opened on the bus. Five boys had ran up on the bus, shaking it side to side more harsh than Minhyun would have expected.

“The interview started today?” Seongwoo asked.

“Seongwoo. I’m pretty sure I had told you eighty thousand times that Minhyun would start here today.” Jisung said, moving out of the way. “Thank you for coming, Minhyun.”

“No problem.” he smiled. “I’m excited to meet you.”

“Should we start it right away?” chirps Daniel, and Jaehwan begins to fix his hair through the camera on his phone.

Sungwoon interrupts Minhyun’s response by saying, “Jaehwan, it’s not on camera. You can stop now.”

“We can, if you want to,” Minhyun tosses his own hair. “I wanted individual profiles of you guys, and then maybe just a general observation of your tour and what’s it like. It’ll be a mixture of everything.”

“Let’s do the profiles, then.” Seongwoo says. He’s shirtless, and the eyeliner on his lids are one blink away from starting to run down his face. His black jeans hang low on his slim hips, but they are held tightly by a belt.

“Okay,” Minhyun agrees. The key was to go with the flow, at least that’s what his editor said. But by the end of these three weeks, he had to have some material to work with. 

Rather than take it all in, he’d write the story as they were on tour, rather than try to cram it all in before the due date. If Minhyun was good at anything, it was making plans. Following them, however, was another story.

“I’ll go first,” declares Seongwoo as he throws himself on the couch opposite from Minhyun, so that they faced each other. 

“Alright,” Sungwoon replies. “Do you want anything? We’re getting food.” The boys all walk in a single file line out of the bus, 

“Anything’s fine,” he screams back. He’s unsure if they heard him.

“So, let’s start with the group’s formation.” Minhyun begins. “You said you had met Ha Sungwoon and Kang Daniel in high school, and then it just grew. How did Jaehwan and Jisung come into the picture?”

Seongwoo’s legs are wide across the couch space, and Minhyun groans internally, because Seongwoo definitely strikes him as a manspreader. 

“Jisung was in a long-term relationship with my cousin. We met at a family gathering, and we just kind of clicked. He joined us as a part-time hobby, but after him and my cousin had broke it off, we were just beginning to make this band a serious thing. So, he quit his job and then became our manager.”

“So, Jisung is your manager?”

“Yeah, we’ve been trying to get one so Jisung isn’t overwhelmed, but he insisted he could handle it.  
“Jaehwan and Sungwoon were childhood friends. They both trained at music schools together, Jaehwan as an instrumentalist, and Sungwoon as a singer. When Sungwoon quit music school, him and Jaehwan remained in contact, and he offered a spot to him.”

Minhyun is audio recording all of this, but he jots down his surroundings. He makes sure to remember the glimmer in Seongwoo’s eyes that reflect the bright ceiling nights. He notes the crooked teeth that makes Seongwoo’s smile so unique.

“If you don’t mind, tell me about your childhood.”

He laughs. “Oh, man. My parents were religious. My father was a pastor, and he wanted me to go to theology school to become a pastor too. I almost went, but I got into an accident in high school and I had to rescind the invitation.

“I also had come to peace with my bisexuality by then, but I didn’t want to face that reality to my father. I had never seen the purpose of coming out, since I still like women. Then I started dating a dude in my brief stint of college, and somehow that got around to my dad. So, I got kicked out.”

“Are you still in contact with your family?” Minhyun feels uncomfortable asking, but Seongwoo shrugs.

“Only my siblings. My mother passed away recently, but I wasn’t allowed to come to the funeral. It sucked, because she would have wanted me to.”

The room is silent as Minhyun keeps writing.

“So, are we continuing with the childhood trauma?” his eyes crinkle as he grins.

“Of course not. You can tell me anything you want to tell me.”

“How about that you’re handsome?”

It’s Minhyun’s turn to laugh. “You’re kind. Thank you.”

“What about your childhood?” Seongwoo inquires. He snatches Minhyun’s notepad and glasses. He closes his legs just as Minhyun had, and licked his lips as he looked up and down, scribbling on the paper. 

“Do I really look like that?”

“Of course not.” He says in a much softer tone, before bursting into laughter. 

Seongwoo hands it all back, and Minhyun keeps grinning. “You’re charming, Ong Seongwoo. I can see why they love you out there.”

“Thanks. I think I’m making up for lost time.”

—

Jisung is calm. Not only that, but extremely funny. He has the humor of an old man that feels young, and Minhyun has a good time talking to him.

He speaks fondly of the other 4 band members, like they’re his children. “They gave me the thing I was missing. I hadn’t realized that there was a lacking in my heart, until recently.”

“What made you realize that?” Minhyun asks. The recorder makes a small noise as the tape goes on and on.

“The crowd was incredibly loud and cheerful. They knew every lyric and every word, but they shouted even as they lost their voices. This feeling almost washed over me, and I looked over, and Seongwoo was on the verge of bawling on stage. I think we could all sense this energy of us finally being loved.”

“You have a way with words,” Minhyun comments as he writes about the way Jisung talks with his hands, and how neatly his legs are crossed.

“Thank you. I majored in linguistics in college.”

“Didn’t you work in marketing?”

“I did. I changed my major to marketing and business management. My parents said I wouldn’t last long in something like that.”

“My parents said journalism works you to death. I did it anyway.”

“Are you being worked to death?” Jisung smiles as he rests his face on his palm, eyes not leaving Minhyun.

“Kind of,” he admits, sheepishly. 

“You should sleep, then.”

“Oh, yeah. I should probably head to my hotel in a bit. I’d like to talk to Daniel, though.” The bus feels smaller and more cramped everytime Minhyun looks up.

“Niel!” Jisung yells.

A faint “What?” comes from the back of the bus. 

“Are you sleeping?”

“Yes, but what is it.” Daniel’s statement was laced with disappointment that he couldn’t sleep longer.

“Let’s do your profile, come on,” Jisung gets up and starts shoving Daniel to get up.

Daniel’s in his pajamas, covered with teddy bears, and he sits down as Minhyun garners his starting questions. He can’t actually comprehend what most of Minhyun’s words mean, but he tries to act like he does.

“What made you get into music?” Minhyun takes off his glasses, because the rim was irritating him and the last thing he needed was a blemish.

“I guess it’s more like who. It was Seongwoo, as everything is about him. I expressed interest in wanting to learn, and he asked a friend of his to teach me for free. Apparently, I’m a fast learner.”

“Do you think you’re a fast learner?”

“I think I’m a normal learner.” Daniel smiles. “I’m just happy for what has been given to me.” Minhyun sees the appeal in him, a humbleness and gratitude that is rarely genuine.

“I didn’t have any passions before this. I hadn’t really thought of it all. Had this not happened, I think I’d live a very unfulfilling life.”

As Minhyun writes about Daniel’s matching teddy bear pajamas, Daniel asks, “Are you gonna put the part about my pajamas in the article?”

“Maybe,” Minhyun beams.

“You’re really handsome, Minhyun, holy shit.”

“Thank you. You’re not the first person to say that to me.”

“Did Seongwoo say that?” The eyes widen on Daniel’s face, and Minhyun is suspicious as he quietly answers, “Yes?”

“Oh man.”  
“What?”

“Nothing.”

Minhyun’s eyes are clouded with doubt, and Daniel is aware of that. However, he begs in his mind for Minhyun to ask the next question.

“The last few months have been good to you guys, and you’ve created two albums in one year. You’re headlining another tour soon. Does this all feel real to you?” There is Minhyun’s gaze again, holding all the seas and land in its endless abyss.

Daniel doesn’t answer right away, and instead he ponders over it. “My life hasn’t actually felt real since I was 17.”

“How so?”

“I was following a mindless routine for all that time. I did what was expected of me. My life is just beginning. The first 17 years were just a preview.”

Minhyun decides to end it there, and while he wishes he could press Daniel more about what he means, he has three months to get him to open up.

“We’ll talk more, Kang Daniel. For now, rest. You look tired.”

—

Jaehwan is a jack of all trades, in some ways. Minhyun notices that he knows a lot about music. Maybe a bit too much. He talks about Mozart (“I find most of his works boring. I had to play them all the time in school.”) and Tupac (“He has to be in Cuba. There’s no way he died. That or it was Suge Knight.”) and The Beatles (“John Lennon was like, a massive dickhead. Their music was so generic for the time-being.”).

So, when Minhyun inquires what his passions are besides music, he answers, “Nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I play video games with friends sometimes. But other than that, I was pretty much a student and a musician only.”

“Did you just not bother pursuing anything else?” It was 1 a.m., but none of them could sleep. Someone was microwaving something, and the sound of the vibrations weren’t enough to interest Minhyun in looking back.

“My parents realized my talent when I was young. I was immediately pushed into developing musical prowess. It’s pretty rare to know how to play pretty much every instrument at the age of 21.” 

“I’m sure. I couldn’t play music, so I instead became a music critic.” Minhyun laughs, and so does Jaehwan.

“Sungwoon’s kind of like that too, stuck in music as a child, only he didn’t learn any instruments at music school.” Jaehwan roughs up the light brown mop on his head. Minhyun notices it’s a bit damaged, but doesn’t point it out.

“It’s true,” and suddenly Jaehwan’s profile becomes Jaehwan and Sungwoon’s profile. 

 

“What did you do in music school?” Minhyun feels his lips becoming dry, and he’s listening as he tries to look for lip balm.

“I trained with vocals mostly. Breath control, healthy high notes, resting it, all of those things.”

“Would you consider yourself an impressive vocalist?”

“Yes. Why on earth would I go to school for it for years upon years without any confidence? It’d be a waste,” comments Sungwoon. Minhyun appreciates his honesty.

“I’m a pretty good vocalist, but I like Sungwoon’s vocals more.” Jaehwan speaks with an unexpected cautiousness. 

“That’s the first time I’ve heard you say something nice about me in a while,” Sungwoon replies, rolling his eyes. He punches Jaehwan’s arms, and they’re brought into a tightly wrapped embrace, laughing together.

He scribbles about the brotherly love the five of them had, and how easy it was to display affection between one another. It was very rare, the ability to openly mention how much another person meant to them, and say it often. 

Minhyun remembers treasuring that with his friends, and thinks about how much emotion even the slightest of physical touch brought him.

—

Instead of talking after the show, Minhyun figures to talk to Seongwoo on a walk in a neighborhood nearby. Maybe the locals would realize they weren’t locals. Minhyun didn’t seem to care enough.

“To be honest, Seongwoo, I have no idea what the hell to ask you.” he thinks it’s best to express the truth, because Minhyun isn’t sure if Seongwoo was as straightforward as he expected. “I would, however, like to talk about your influences.”

“Isn’t that a question in itself?” snorts Seongwoo.

“I make questions just in case I’m stuck. I like my interviews to have some flow through them, not just standard, run-of-the-mill stuff.”

“You actually give a shit about my mental stability. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” Minhyun isn’t sure what that means, but he doesn’t want to ask.

“My influences have nothing to do with my music. I wish I could answer something like, ‘I fucking loved Aerosmith as a child’, but the truth is, I wasn’t allowed to listen to most music until I was 18 and I went off to school. I always listened to clean versions of shit at like, church parties.”

Minhyun sees the sky turn grey, and it’s fitting with the mood.

“I don’t really regret my religious upbringing though. I can separate what was just my dad’s bullshit and what wasn’t. Most people just denounce it after they learn the truth. I can’t exactly do that.” Seongwoo’s brown coat matches with the gloomy autumn atmosphere.

“Do you think there’s someone up there?” Minhyun asks this from the heart, and he genuinely wants to hear Seongwoo’s answer.

“I do. I really do.”

When they approach a cul-de-sac, Seongwoo comes closer to Minhyun. “Were you born in Busan?”

“Yes. This is my hometown. Houses like these —” he points across the street, “ — look just like mine.”

“What was your family like?”

“Normal. I had a mom and a dad who loved me a lot. I have an older sister. That’s it.”

“That’s nice to hear. I’m glad the good has only happened to you.” Seongwoo’s voice cracks and he chokes a bit, but Minhyun knows Seongwoo’s fighting things back.

“Minhyun, can you promise me something?” Seongwoo looks up, even though Minhyun’s only a centimeter or two taller than him.

“If they’re doable, I don’t see why not.” 

“Let’s go out together, after the show. Just you and me. It doesn’t have to be about the interview.”

Minhyun is perplexed, because Seongwoo actually seems afraid of Minhyun’s response. His face painted a picture of initial pride slowing being melted away as the reticence grew.

“I’d love to. I’ll show you somewhere we can go.” 

“That was the longest ten seconds of my fucking life.” he lets out a massive breath. Minhyun’s grin is from ear to ear.

—

Minhyun takes Seongwoo to a small restaurant 20 minutes from his parents’ house. The table is inches higher than the floor, and they sit across from each other.

“Do you drink?” Seongwoo takes off his sweater, and places it besides him. 

His outfit is much less brash than their initial meetings. His cardigan is soft and black, instead of the leather jackets or tank tops he usually donned. He took out his flashy red-colored contact lenses, and is wearing frames that are rimmed with flickers of gold. Instead of his brown hair slicked back, it’s now black. His hair pools into his eyes, his bangs newly trimmed.

“I don’t actually,” Minhyun admits. “It’s uncommon for someone of our age, I know.”

“Can I ask why?” Seongwoo places his elbows on the table.

Minhyun matches Seongwoo’s posture and does the same. “I just don’t like the taste of it. I hate the feeling of being drunk, too.”

They order their food, and carry on with the conversation as the menus are picked up. “Most people like that escapism,” continues Seongwoo, scratching his eyebrow, with two parallel slits shaved into it. 

Minhyun snickers, because he never noticed the pattern in Seongwoo’s brows, and he also realizes Seongwoo would be the type to have one, just as he’s the type to manspread.

“Are you laughing at my eyebrow?” his crooked teeth bare.

“Quite frankly, yes. Why did you shave them?”  
“When I was 18, my ex-boyfriend convinced me to do it. It never grew back. I’m gonna be fucking 40 and have eyebrow cuts.”

“Oh my god.” Minhyun reflects on his teenage years in his head. Not much had happened.

“You wanna hear something worst? I have like a billion stick and poke tattoos from that time too.” Seongwoo pulls his shirt down to show his collarbone. The date “8.7.2017” was written in fading black ink.

“What was so important about August 7th, 2017?” questions Minhyun.

The waiter comes with their food, and lightly places it in front of them, murmuring about informing her about the check as she walks away.

“That was just the day I got my first tattoo. Nothing special. I want to get it removed though.”

The light that hangs above Minhyun’s head starts flickering. “Are you sure? It hurts like hell.” 

“It does, but I don’t need it anymore. It was good for the moment.”

He thinks he knows Seongwoo from head to toe now in the few days they’ve talked. Minhyun adapts to every new side of Seongwoo that bares. 

Seongwoo has no need to, because Minhyun has nothing to reveal. So he pressures him.

“You make yourself seem so boring. Why?”

Minhyun’s fork is placed down, him rearranging his legs to sit more leisurely. His teeth poke out as he says, “I don’t think I’m boring. Compared to you, my life is just strikingly average.”

“Is that a bad thing? I’d kill to have an average life. Like a nuclear family of some sorts.”

“It’s not bad. Nor is it good,” Minhyun replies. “It just is, if that makes sense. I was born, I went to school, I went to college, I had a job, and now I’m here. I’m having dinner with the lead singer of an up and coming rock band. This is probably the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in a while.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” After Minhyun drinks a bit of water, he continues. “Also, your outfit is different.”

“Oh, yeah. I wanted to look like a normal person for once.”

“Did you always dress like that?”

Seongwoo slams his hands on the table, but not hard enough for a loud noise. “Enough about me. What did you look like as a kid then?” 

Minhyun stretches a bit. “Oh god. I didn’t have eyebrows until like, high school. I was a chubby kid, but that’s a given.” 

“I’d reckon you were a cute kid.” 

“I’d say the same.” They both cackle at each other out of sheer tranquility.

—

Minhyun spends the nights of the next two weeks recalling the experience with Silent Screamer without talking too much about Seongwoo’s laugh, Seongwoo’s humor, Seongwoo’s eyes, Seongwoo’s nose, Seongwoo’s hands, Seongwoo’s everything.

He fails for a while, but eventually the main story is done. It’s finished as Seongwoo pushes him to write the last words calling on Skype, with shouts that were reminiscent of a high school cheerleading squad.

**Author's Note:**

> comments are highly appreciated, they encourage me to write! thanks for reading chiefs


End file.
